Mystery of collapsed rig solved
INTERESTING photo of the rig in Portishead dock which was taken in 1964 (BT Letters, March 1).
As you can see from the attached page from the Port of Bristol Authority handbook, this rig was placed in the Channel between Redcliff Bay and Newport to investigate whether it was practical to build a jetty out from the Welsh side to be able to load iron ore ships in mid channel.
Not long after being placed on site it started to develop a list, and not surprisingly it collapsed very suddenly one weekend.
The cutting from the Evening Post is dated Monday, July 27, 1964 and the incident took place that previous weekend.
From the notes I made at the time, on the Saturday the rig had a 10 degree list and the tug Sea Volunteer was standing by while men were being taken off.
There was a cable connected to the tug while she appeared to be making an attempt to pull the rig upright but this kept breaking.
On the Sunday one of the legs seemed to have buckled overnight and three tugs were now standing by. Then without any warning at midday the whole thing collapsed while I was watching it.
Hope this solves your enquiry, Peter Hobday by email
» Editor’s reply: Many thanks Peter. Mystery solved. And there was me thinking that someone was looking for oil ‘neath the waters of the Severn or Bristol Channel.
As it happens, we have a similar photo to the one in the clipping that Mr Hobday sent us in the archive, so here it is. An ignominious end.
Aviator’s grave
✒ JUST by coincidence I was looking through some old photos on my phone the other day, not long after reading your interesting article about the young pilot Leslie MacDonald and his “sales trip” to Australia to sell Bristol Boxkite aeroplanes. (BT March 1)
I attach the picture I took of his grave at Canford Cemetery that I took a couple of years ago in case it’s of any interest.
I remember thinking to myself at the time that the wording on the stone – “the first aviator to fly over the Clifton Downs” – made him sound like an interesting chap, and now, thanks to Bristol Times, I know all about him!
Keep up the good work!
Robert Newman
by email
Life as a rent collector
✒ IN 1965, after five years of sitting behind a desk, I wanted a change. A colleague suggested I could be a rent collector for the Bristol City Council Housing Dept.
I applied, took a test adding up columns of the old pounds, shillings, and pence with a time limit of 30 minutes.
Two of us took this test and this was how I met my future brotherin-law, John, and through him, my wife.
We both passed and started work in the local office at Shirehampton, which covered that area, Lawrence Weston, Sea Mills, and Avonmouth.
At that time there were eight local offices throughout the city; Bedminster, Central, Hartcliffe, Knowle, Fishponds, Lockleaze, Southmead and Shirehampton.
John and I were plunged in at the deep end. We started on a Monday when the other collectors were filling in forms required by the City Council Housing Dept.
Everything had to agree, not even a penny out.
All done in their heads or with just one fought-over, hand-operated adding machine. No wonder they had no time to explain to us what they were doing. They were expected to do this by lunchtime.
In the afternoon they had to prepare for the week ahead, as well as having to fill in a big book, a ledger, which had the names and addresses of the previous week’s collection, enter the payments and arrears of those tenants in arrears, so that letters could be sent and typed by a typist who came one or two days a week.
Rent was collected fortnightly and was done Tuesday to Friday. One week was “A” week, the other “B” week. Each collector had his own collection areas.
On Tuesday morning John and I were sent out with a collector who had what was known as the round book and a cash bag with a £5 float.
The book had to be open and balanced on the left arm, the money from the tenant gripped between the fingers, in case of argument. The right hand was used to give change from the cash bag, enter the payment in the book. The tenant’s rent book had to be brought up to date with what was due, what was paid, and what was owed if anything.
All this done in your head whilst being pleasant to the tenant and listening to any complaints they might have, trying to keep your book dry in the pouring rain or trying to write on wet pages.
The next day we were sent out on our own and told to get on with it.
Later that week during a terrible storm and not having yet been issued with my waterproof coat, a tenant opened the door, looked at me and said “you poor little bugger!”
At that time, most three-bed houses paid a now-unbelievable £6, 15 shillings and sixpence, written as £6.15.6, i.e £6.78 now, for the fortnight. This also included the general rates and water rates!
We were expected to collect about 140 rents a day, and allowed ourselves 30 minutes per page of the round book. That was 20 houses, or one and a half minutes per house, including the time it took to walk from one to the other. An impossible task - but failure was not an option.
We were also expected to travel everywhere by bus, but time waiting at bus stops was not feasible. It was not safe to do this either, carrying the large amounts of money that we did. Most of us used our cars, although we only got paid bus
fares.
Later we had a car allowance for our own cars, which we had to buy, maintain, and insure for work.
When we were interviewed for the job we were told that you could set your clock by a good rent collector. Tenants expected us at the same time each fortnight.
We were also bound by the need to get back to the office, add up the entries in the round book, count the money and write the bank payslip.
Sometimes, not often, our figures did not agree and our money collected was short or over. There was a fund for this, which we could pay into or draw from if necessary.
Any mistakes would usually come to light the next fortnight or if a tenant phoned or came to the office to say we hadn’t given them enough change. They sometimes even told us if we had given them too much change.
It all had to be sorted and taken by others to the bank before it closed, which was 3.30pm.
We then had to update for the next day with payments made elsewhere. Tenants did not take kindly if you asked for rent or left a calling slip, for money they had already paid.
There was one relief collector at each office who took rents over the counter if not needed on a round.
Sometimes he would turn up at his office at 8.30am and be told to go immediately to one of the other offices who were desperate for a collector.
This meant getting to that office, collecting the round book, starting an unfamiliar collection in a strange area, several hours later than normal.
Tenants understandably complained because they had other plans for the day. Sometimes because of lack of time we had to pay the money directly into a nearest bank, if we could find one.
I remember one such time, in the 1970s, I was sent to the new blocks of flats at Redcliffe Hill. The tenants had heating to pay for as well as their rent. I collected over £8,000 and made it to the bank with about five minutes to spare.
I stood in a corner hurriedly counting the money, writing several bank slips and paying it over the counter at the last minute. Fortunately when I added up later what I had taken, it agreed exactly with what I had paid in.
Another time I was told to go to the Southmead office the next day. I woke that morning, early eighties I think, to terrible weather. There was deep snow and the roads were icy. Too dangerous to ride the small motorbike I had then.
I knew there was nobody else available so I rang Southmead and told them I was coming by two buses.
I got there about ten, was taken to the start, deep snow and ice everywhere. A totally unfamiliar area. People were coming at me from all angles trying to pay me in the street, which wasn’t allowed anyway because of safety reasons.
On this occasion there wasn’t the time to search through the book for them, some I refused, others I did take and scribbled a pencil note in the back of the collecting book.
I struggled on, got to the last one and was given a biscuit tin full of rents from not only my area but other areas. It took me about half an hour to get through them all.
I tried phoning the Southmead office for a lift back, as they had told me to do. Every time I did, it was engaged. I walked several miles all the way back.
There was little time to spare and everybody pitched in to count the money and sort out the rents on the scribbled notes.
I was told that they had had many phone calls from tenants complaining I was late. No doubt this was why the phone was engaged every time I called for a lift back.
At this time a tenant wrote in the Post that whilst others were using the weather as an excuse to stay home, he raised his hat to the Council Rent Collectors who always turned up on time. We pinned it to our notice board.
It was a dangerous job, carrying large amounts of used notes on regular routes at predictable times, and during the 1980s there was an armed robbery at the Hartcliffe office.
Then a collector on a round from the Fishponds office was called back to the office and given the option of not carrying on. He was told by the Police they had had a tip off and seen a gang in their car in Lodge Causeway waiting to rob him.
He was assured he would be safe because there were lots of Policemen around, constantly watching. He bravely opted to carry on. When it happened, he was threatened with a shotgun and not a Policeman to be seen!
Two men were later arrested and guns found.
Apparently by this time other local authorities had ceased outdoor rent collecting because of the
danger. There was no obligation to collect rents. It was the responsibility of the tenants to pay it and there were plenty of other ways to do so.
We were all called to a meeting at the Council House, the dangers pointed out to us and asked to vote if we wanted it to stop.
Our colleague Len, answered for all of us by asking when he was getting his new raincoat. A heavy unwieldy item supplied by Huggins, a firm that made all sorts of uniforms.
From that time on we were all volunteers and the last local authority to be collecting rent.
Much better than sitting behind a desk though.